


We Always End Up Here

by Leyal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3851077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyal/pseuds/Leyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPN drabbles of the brotherly, hurt/comfort variety. Part 13: Car accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

ONE: Sam calls himself Sammy to get through to an injured Dean.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Dean. _Dean_. Look at me. Hey. It’s Sam.”

 

Dean kept rocking, staring into the middle distance.

 

“We need to get out of here. Come on, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” Tentatively, Sam touched his brother’s arm.

 

Dean shuddered, closed his eyes. Sam felt muscles spasming under his hand.

 

“Dean? It’s Sam. I need you, okay? Right here with me.”

 

Dean shook his head. “Not real,” he whispered, voice wrecked.

 

Sam swallowed hard. “Dean, it’s Sammy. Please look at me.”

 

A tear slipped down Dean’s face. “Sammy?” he asked, begged.

 

“Yeah, man. I’ve got you.”

 

Dean opened his eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

TWO: The boys argue about where Sam’s injury falls on the pain scale. 

 

* * *

 

 “How’s the pain?” Dean’s tense, but his hands are gentle as he peels back Sam’s tattered sleeve.

 

“N-not so b-b-bad.” Sam’s unable to keep the tremor from his voice, because it _is_ bad. His arm’s a mass of shredded muscle and raw nerves.

 

Dean frowns. “Liar. Give me a number, Sammy.”

 

“S-six.”

 

“Try again.” Dean’s pressing gauze onto the wound, hard. Sam’s vision whites out, and his brother shakes him. “Sam. Answer the question.”

 

“Wha’ . . . question?”

 

“Pain.”

 

“Mmm. S-seven. Eight.”

 

“That your final answer?”

 

“Jerk.” Sam shivers; Dean relents.

 

“Okay, man. Hospital. We’ll get the good stuff.”  

 


	3. Chapter 3

THREE: Sam ignores Dean’s advice and ends up regretting it.   

 

* * *

 

“Told you it was poison ivy.” Dean looks positively gleeful.

 

“Told _you_ to shut up.” Sam’s hands and arms are covered in red blisters, and it’s quickly eroding his tolerance for Dean’s gloating.

 

Dean barrels on, oblivious. “You just _had_ to prove me wrong, didn’t you, geek-boy?”    

 

“Dean . . .” It’s really starting to hurt now, and Sam can’t even rub his watering eyes without spreading the rash to his face.

 

“Who’s the genius now, huh?”

 

“ _Dean_.” Sam must look really miserable, because Dean stops, goes from smug to sympathetic in a split second.

 

“Aw, Sam. Let me see.”


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR: Dean’s always struggled with depression.

 

* * *

 

Sam doesn’t always see bad days coming.

 

Usually, there’s some warning: Dean stops eating, empties the cassette deck, lets Sam drive. Sam always stops at a motel, bullies his brother into the shower and into bed. It doesn’t last long if Sam catches it early.

 

But when he doesn’t . . .

 

Dean’s curled on his side, his eyes open but utterly blank. He hasn’t moved willingly in three days. Sam _hates_ this, that Dean’s in pain and he can’t do anything about it.

 

He crawls into bed, holds Dean like Dean held him when they were children, and waits.     

 


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE: Sam gets angry when a client calls Dean stupid.

 

* * *

 

“The hell, Dean? You’re gonna let him get away with that?”  

 

“Sam, it’s fine. C’mon.”

 

“No way. He can’t—”

  

“Why’s this a sore spot for you? We both know I’m not the brains of this outfit.”

 

“Do I need to get in _your_ face, too?”

 

“Sam—”

 

“You’re the best hunter there is. You’ve memorized an encyclopedia’s worth of lore. You can—you _have—_ built the Impala from the ground up. Hell, you probably know what town we were in in August of 1992.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I mean it, man. You’re _not_ stupid.”

 

. . .

 

“Medford, Oklahoma.”

 

“What?”

 

“August of ’92.”

 

“Smartass.”


	6. Chapter 6

SIX: Sam sits with Dean in the hospital.  

 

* * *

 

Sam jolts awake.

 

He’s not sure what happened; the monitors are mercifully quiet, and Dean doesn’t appear to be in pain.

 

Sam takes his brother’s hand. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. It’s been one crisis after another, and he’s emotionally wrung out.

 

“Sammy.”

 

It’s barely a whisper, but Sam’s head snaps up. “Dean?” he asks dumbly.

 

“Hurt,” Dean breathes, distressed.

 

“Shit, okay, hang on.” Sam starts to get up.

 

“N-no!” Dean’s really agitated now. “Hurt?”

 

The realization makes Sam’s eyes sting. “Hey, I’m fine,” he soothes, sitting back down. Dean immediately calms.

 

Sam wonders if he’ll ever deserve his brother’s devotion.


	7. Chapter 7

SEVEN: The significance of the day is not lost on Dean.  

 

* * *

 

It’s been a year to the day, and Dean knows there’s never been anyone else. Not since Jess.

 

Sammy, usually so eager to share his _feelings_ , pretends nothing’s wrong. Like his chance at normal hadn’t ended in fire and blood.

 

Dean hates that this fucked-up world has touched his kid brother. He stops the car. “C’mon. Out.”

 

“Dean?”    

 

They sit on Baby’s hood. Dean clears his throat. “Wanna talk about it?”

 

Sam’s face hardens. “No.”

 

“Sam—”

 

“No, Dean.”

 

They sit in silence so long, Dean’s afraid he messed up. Then—

 

“Thanks. For remembering.”

 

The silence is suddenly more bearable.


	8. Chapter 8

EIGHT: One man's heaven . . . 

 

* * *

 

  
“It wasn’t how it looked.”

 

“Yeah, Sam? How the _fuck_ was it?”

 

 “I never wanted to leave you. The life? Sure. Dad? Sometimes. But never you.”

 

“Still one of the worst days of my life. And it’s in your heaven.”

 

“I’m sorry for that. Not sorry I did it.”

 

“I was _this_ close to begging you to stay.”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“Of course I didn’t, Sam. I’m not that goddamn selfish.”

 

“I would’ve, you know. Stayed. If you’d asked me.”

 

“Don’t do that.”

 

“I would’ve.”

 

“I just wanted you to _want_ . . .”

 

“I _did_ , Dean.”

 

“Guess that’ll have to be enough.”


	9. Chapter 9

NINE: Blood loss.

 

* * *

 

“Dean!” Sam patted his brother’s clammy cheek. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

 

“S’m,” Dean slurred.

 

“Yeah, man. You keep talking.”

 

“C-cold.”

 

Sam caught Bobby’s eye. “It’s okay,” he lied. It was summer in Texas, and Dean was wrapped in all three of their coats.

 

“M’pants’re w-wet,” Dean whispered.

 

“I know.” Dean’s blood was all over both of them, seeping from the gash in his leg despite the tourniquet.

 

“Ambulance’ll be here in five,” Bobby said gruffly.

 

“You hear that, Dean?” His brother’s eyes slipped closed. Sam jostled him. “Stay with me.”

 

“W-with . . . you.”

 

And when the ambulance came, he still was.


	10. Chapter 10

TEN: Dean has a very low tolerance for Sam’s pain.

 

* * *

 

 Dean knows from the way Sam’s breathing that each exhale is an aborted scream.

 

“You’re okay, Sammy,” Dean lies for the hundredth time. He can’t even touch his brother without hurting him. 

 

Sam writhes on the bed, lets out a strangled sound that pierces Dean straight through. He would do anything, _anything_ to make it stop.  

 

“You’re doin’ good,” Dean soothes. “Remember when that manticore got _me_? Cried like a little kid.”

 

“ _Were_ . . . a kid,” Sam gasps.

 

“Still. Free pass, dude.”

 

Sam squirms closer. “D-dean,” he sobs.

 

“I’m here.”

 

It’s the only comfort he can give, but sometimes it’s enough.


	11. Chapter 11

ELEVEN: Fire is still a problem for the Winchesters.   

 

* * *

 

“Get _off_! M’brother’s in there! SAMMY!”

 

It’s the first thing Sam hears as the firefighters carry him out. Blinking smoky tears, he pushes off the oxygen mask. Dean’s screaming, and someone’s screaming back.

 

“Hafta find S-Sammy!”

 

“Sir, sit _down_! You’re hurt. Just—”

 

“SAM!”

 

“Wait,” Sam coughs to the guy carrying his stretcher. “Take me over there.”

 

A medic helps Sam up, and he grabs his brother’s arm.

 

Dean’s face is bloody, eyes not tracking. “Take y’brother ou’side,” he whispers.

 

“Dean, look at me.”

 

A slow blink. “Sam?”

 

“I’m okay. You got me out.”

 

“Gotcha?”

 

“Yeah. I got you, too.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TWELVE: Addiction.

* * *

 

Sam fidgeted, rocking the Impala. Again.

 

Dean huffed. “Jesus, Sam. Told you to go before we left the diner.”

 

Sam’s bitchface was spectacular. His leg bounced, Baby with him.

 

“That’s it.” Dean opened the passenger door. “Out. Now it’s a solo stakeout.”

 

“Dean—”

 

“Don’t come back until you get this outta your system.”

 

“It’s never gonna be outta my system,” Sam muttered.

 

“Huh?”

 

“If I go out there, I’m gonna . . . I need . . .” Sam twisted uncomfortably, and it all fell into place.

 

“Demon blood,” Dean finished. “Shit.”

 

“Sorry.” _For everything_ , unspoken.

 

Dean stop-started twice, finally settled on, “I know, Sammy.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIRTEEN: Car accident.

* * *

 

“What the hell, Dean?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I’ve called you five times. Five. You gonna leave me here?”

 

“Sammy.”

 

“Don’t _Sammy_ me. I’ve been waiting two hours. Where are you?”

 

“. . . Sammy?”

 

“Dean?”

 

“Sam, I . . . I don’t . . .”

 

“Hey. Are you okay?”

 

“S’raining.”

 

“Yeah, man. Where are you?”

 

“M’baby’s wet. S’all wet.”

 

“Are you in the Impala, Dean?”

 

“S’raining . . . in the car.”

 

“Okay. Okay. I’m tracking your phone. You all right?”

 

“I dunno. Th-think I’m bleedin’.”

 

“How bad, Dean?”

 

“I don’t . . . S’mmy?”

 

“It’s okay. I’m coming.”

 

“I think she’s broke.”

 

“You’ll fix her. I’m coming, hear me?”

 

“Hear you.”

 

“You keep talking, jerk.”

 

“B-bitch.”


End file.
